


been crossing all the lines

by fadeastride



Category: Hockey - Fandom, Women's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, hilary knight is a frat boy don't @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:56:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeastride/pseuds/fadeastride
Summary: Amanda's freshman year of college goes a little like this.





	been crossing all the lines

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly an excuse to write porn.
> 
> Thanks to Xochi for cheerleading and Bonnie for looking it over.
> 
> Title from Girls Like Girls by Hayley Kiyoko, obviously.

After everything's been unpacked and her parents have finally headed home, Amanda flops face-first onto the bed. 

Dorm rooms are even smaller than she thought. 

It looks like her roommate is already moved in, a pile of books on the desk and clothes in the closet. Amanda hopes she's cool. 

Amanda hopes she's _nice._

People are still moving in around it, common areas crawling with families, so she leans back against the pillow and mindlessly scrolls Instagram until her eyes grow heavy. 

When she wakes up, it's to a girl with a blonde ponytail dropping a gym bag on the floor. 

“Hello?” Amanda says, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

“Sup?” the girl says. “Brianna.” She sticks her hand out to shake. 

“Amanda. You got here early, huh?”

Brianna kicks her bag. 

“Hockey practice. Guess they actually wanna win this year.” Her smile is fierce and a little cocky, a smile that says she knows what she's worth, and Amanda finds herself drawn to it. 

“I'll come to your games if you guys are any good,” Amanda says, trying for cool and almost nailing it. 

“Oh, we're gonna be good, asshole,” Brianna says, throwing a sweaty shirt at her. “You're gonna come to so many games.”

Amanda thinks that might be true. 

School starts for real a few days later, and she ends up sitting next to a girl wearing hideously printed leggings in her English 101 class. Her name is Kelli and she spends the entire class drawing dogs on her notes. She seems nice enough, so Amanda adds her on Snapchat. 

Over the next week, she and Amanda send each other a bunch of stupid pictures and have a handful of genuinely good conversations, and Amanda is so thankful that she might have actually made a friend. 

Getting back into the swing of homework in the very first week of school feels unfair, but at least it's mostly busywork. Amanda has just submitted her “about me” essay for her history class when Brianna barges in the door. 

“It's time to get fucked up!” she singsongs, throwing her backpack on her desk and stripping her shirt off. “Beta Theta Pi is having its first party and I am going to get _belligerent_.”

Amanda's only been drunk once, when Phil sneaked a bottle of Boone's Farm out of their parents’ liquor cabinet and they drank it in the backyard. It had been disgusting, but Phil had held her hair back when she puked, as sugary-sweet coming back up as it had been going down. 

It wasn't fun and Amanda has no intention of reliving it any time soon. 

Brianna turns around, holding one shirt to her front and then another. “Blue or red? And you're coming, I'm not taking no for an answer.”

“Red,” Amanda says. _Shit_ , she thinks. 

She texts Kelli. 

_What are your feelings about Beta Theta Pi and parties?_

Kelli responds almost immediately. 

_My feelings about free booze are yes and good. Meet you outside the dorms at 9?_

And that's how Amanda ends up at the first party of her college career.

The party is already starting to get out of control by the time Amanda and Kelli get there. She finds Brianna on the back patio, cheering on some girl doing what is admittedly an impressive kegstand.

“Knighter, you fuckin’ beaut!” she yells, and Amanda gravitates toward the sound. 

The frat boys lower the girl back to the ground and she wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her hoodie while the crowd cheers. She turns around to high five Brianna and Amanda's stomach tumbles into her knees. 

This Knighter girl is _gorgeous._

Amanda drifts closer to Brianna's side, Kelli close behind. 

“You came!” Brianna yells over the music. She shoves her half full beer into Amanda's hand. “Drink that and I'll find us more.”

Knighter grins at Amanda. “So you're the roommate.”

“Amanda. This is Kelli.”

“Hilary.” She sticks her hand out and Amanda takes it. It's warm and smooth and Amanda has no idea how long she holds it but somehow it feels both too long and not long enough. 

Amanda takes a sip of the beer to buy some time before anyone expects her to say anything else, but the sip is vile and she pulls a face. Hilary laughs. 

“Whoever bought for this is an asshole, and Decks likes it, so she's an asshole too.” She reaches out for the can and Amanda hands it over.

“PBR is Bud Light for people who think they're too cool for Bud Light,” Hilary says before taking a swig.“I know for a fact there's vodka in the basement, if that's more your style.”

Amanda doesn't have a style, but she follows Hilary anyway. 

The vodka cranberry Amanda ends up with is barely pink, Smirnoff most of the way up. It's arguably worse than the beer but Amanda takes tiny sips and pretends it doesn't burn her throat all the way down. 

“How do you know Brianna?” 

“Decks? Hockey team. She's my freshman. Hell of a player, too.” 

Kelli taps Amanda's shoulder. “I'm gonna wander. I'll catch up with you later.”

Amanda nods and then checks her phone for the time. There's a text from Kelli.

_Get it, girl 🍆🍆🍆_

Well, _that_ wasn't how Amanda planned on coming out. 

Brianna appears from behind Hilary. 

“Hey buuuuuddy,” she says, draping herself as best she can over Hilary's shoulders. Her hair is escaping her ponytail and her cheeks are pink. “Ryan from the guys’ team grabbed my ass. You should beat him up for me.”

Hilary's face goes hard. “That fucking asshole. I'm on it.”

She disappears into the crowd. 

Brianna turns to Amanda. “Wanna watch her scare the shit out of a dude?”

Amanda really, really does. 

The guy's got two inches on Hilary probably, but the look he gives her as she crowds into his space says that he feels a foot shorter. 

“- you try to lay hands on one of my girls, no, fuck that, on _any_ girl that doesn't explicitly ask you to do it, I will break them. I will have you off that team so fucking fast. Are we clear?”

He nods, short little jerks, never taking his eyes off her. 

“Good.” She steps back and he slides to the floor. 

It might not be the hottest thing Amanda's ever seen, but it's close. 

She finds Kelli by the bathroom a little later, both of them most of the way to drunk. 

“So,” Kelli says, grin on her face a little dirty. “Someone's got a crush on the upperclassman.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Amanda groans, because she does and it's stupid. 

“Hey man, she's hot. If you wanna hit that, I can walk myself home tonight.”

Amanda shakes her head. “It's not gonna happen. Not tonight, not ever.”

Kelli shrugs. “If you say so. I want one more beer and then I'm probably good to go if you are?”

They walk back to the dorms slowly, zigzagging together and apart in that way drunk people do. Amanda doesn't brush her teeth or take her makeup off, just falls into bed still in her clothes. 

She wakes up crusty-faced and a little nauseous, but it's nothing she can't handle. 

Brianna, on the other hand.

When Amanda looks to the other bed, Brianna is passed out on top of the covers. She'd gotten her shoes and pants off and is sleeping in her shirt from last night and not enough underwear. She's got lipstick smeared across her face and on the pillow. 

“Bri?” Amanda asks quietly. 

“Fuck you,” Brianna rasps back. 

Amanda buys her a water bottle out of the vending machine and leaves it with a bottle of Aleve on the nightstand before heading to the shower.

By the time she gets out, Hilary is sitting on Brianna's bed, trying to coax her gently to consciousness. 

“Do you want some water?”

“No.”

“Do you want to take a shower?”

“No.”

“Do you want some breakfast?”

“Knighter, just go the fuck - oh, _no._ ”

The speed with which Hilary gets the trash can under Brianna's face is inhuman. 

“Ew,” Amanda says, and Hilary laughs. 

“I figured the thought of food would start that. It's better to just get it out of the way.” She absently rubs Brianna's back. “How are you feeling?”

The noise Brianna makes is guttural and hilarious. 

“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers, fingers pressing into her ears. “You're so loud, everything is loud, everything is terrible forever.”

Hilary pats her on the back. “You better be at practice in the morning or I'll tell Coach Julie why you aren't. And then she'll bag skate you until you puke again.”

She doesn't say it in a mean way, just very matter-of-factly, and Amanda's a little scared of her. 

When she leaves, Amanda watches her go. 

She starts showing up at the dorm a lot, though. Bri says she lives in one of the apartments across the street, one of the ones where the rent is more than anywhere else in town but she’s close enough to walk to campus. Sometimes she brings food. Sometimes she comes over even when Brianna's still in class and Amanda spends the better part of an hour trying to pretend she's cool. 

Every time Hilary laughs at something she says, her stomach climbs into her throat, but it's totally fine. She's so fucking chill.

Maybe. 

Not really. 

Whatever. 

School passes the way school always has. She has her first test at the end of September, a massive chem thing that's got every major in the class writing out flashcards and rereading powerpoint lectures. The test is tomorrow, she's three Red Bulls in, and she's still not sure if she knows it. 

Brianna's been passed out for the better part of an hour when someone knocks on the door. 

“What's up?” Hilary asks when Amanda opens the door. 

Amanda sighs and waves her flashcards. 

Hilary glances behind her at Brianna's unconscious form. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Like, real food? I don't know. What time is it?”

Hilary rolls her eyes. “Freshmen. Find some shoes, we're getting food.”

They end up at the McDonald's across from campus and Hilary buys her a meal and a shake. 

Amanda stuffs too many fries into her mouth. “I didn't realize I was fucking starving, thank you.”

“The freshmen always do this. They stress themselves out and don't eat or take breaks and then wonder why they bombed. Your brain can only hold so much at one time, man. You gotta let it rest.”

“I just. Don't wanna fail.”

“You won't. I'll quiz you later, and then you're gonna go the fuck to bed and get some sleep. And then you'll actually be able to function tomorrow.”

When they get back to the dorms, Hilary stops in the common room

“Best two out of three?” Hilary asks, tilting her head at the foosball table. 

Amanda's eyes narrow. “You're on.”

The first game is over quick, when Hilary’s hand slips off the goalie's handle and Amanda buries the ball. 

“Lucky shot,” Hilary says, and Amanda sticks out her tongue.

“You've got fry grease on your fingers. Shoulda licked ‘em clean like I did.”

Hilary wins the second match, launches a ball so quick Amanda never even sees it till it's in the goal. She dusts her shoulders off. 

“Sniped, bro. That's how I do it.”

Amanda can't believe she likes her. 

The third game goes back and forth for a while, until Amanda's wrists start to ache. She catches Hilary reaching for the wrong handle and, in the split second it takes her to correct her mistake, Amanda lines her shot up and shoots.

“Yes!” she yells over Hilary's groan. “Game. Set. Match, bitch.”

“Okay, okay, arrogance isn't attractive,” Hilary says, but she's smiling. “Let's go run those flashcards.”

They study for an hour, with a disheveled, post-nap Brianna calling encouragement from her pillow. Amanda almost feels confident by the time Hilary forces her into bed. 

The test is easy. She usually hates being the first person to turn in a test, but she takes her scantron to the podium and walks out feeling a little smug. When her professor posts grades the next morning, she does a little dance for her 96%.

The women's team has a game against St. Bridget's that night and Amanda bribes Kelli into going with her. 

Brianna was right: they're good. 

They're up 3-0 by the end of the first and it never gets less lopsided. It's not that the other team is bad; Amanda played for years and she can tell they have skill, the Sirens are just that much better. 

Amanda screams herself hoarse when Brianna gets a goal on Hilary's assist, and then again when Hilary gets bounced with ten minutes left in the third for completing a Gordie Howe hat trick.

The other girl slashed one of their wingers and didn't get caught, so she deserved Hilary's fist in her face, really. 

They pile into Hilary's jeep after the game and meet the rest of the team at Denny's. 

They take over a row of booths at the back, sliding across peeling vinyl. Hilary squeezes in next to Amanda, half a thigh hanging off the edge of the seat, and orders a truly obscene amount of cheese fries. Amanda sneaks them off her plate and she knows Hilary sees her but neither of them says anything. 

They're a raucous group, loud and a little messy, but the waitress seems to know them, cracking jokes and swiping a mozzarella stick from the starting goalie. Amanda knows she doesn't actually belong here but, with Hilary's shoulder pressed tight against her own, she doesn't really care. 

It's not clear how exactly Hilary ended up being Amanda's friend or, at least, it's not clear to Amanda. It happens, though. It's not something Amanda realizes until one night in mid-December, when Hilary wins two tickets to a minor league hockey game off the radio and asks if she wants to go. 

Which, duh. 

They drink shitty beer and watch underpaid kids bust their asses and cheer loudly and boo loudly too. Hilary's knee bumps against hers all night, warm and solid, and Amanda couldn't tell you which team won. 

They take some weird back road back to campus. Hilary's driving too fast but there's no other headlights for miles. The music is loud, overwhelmingly so, and Amanda thinks her heart is pumping blood to the beat of the song. She rolls her window down and sticks her face into the cold while Hilary laughs. 

“Your eyelashes are gonna freeze.”

“Oh, we're already there,” Amanda hollers back against the wind. 

She pulls herself back into the car, face sprayed pink with cold. 

“Hey,” Hilary says, glancing at her. “You wanna crash at my place tonight? I've got a queen size bed and a bottle of whiskey.”

“You had me at ‘queen sized.'”

They pull into the lot at Hilary's apartment a little before midnight. 

Her apartment is way nicer than the dorms. 

It's small, a studio, but clean and warm. Hilary throws her a pair of sweats before changing into a pair of her own. 

They sit on the edge of the bed, tv on low, passing a bottle of Jack between them, talking about anything that comes up. 

The buzz is creeping in, thrumming behind her eyes the way it does before it settles in for good. She leans her head against Hilary's shoulder, languid. 

“You're so cool,” she says. “I'm not cool at all, but you're so cool.”

Hilary takes a pull from the bottle before resting it against her knee. 

“I think you're cool.”

“I'm not,” Amanda insists. “I'm kind of a nerd. You and Brianna, you guys are cool.”

Hilary lifts her shoulder until Amanda takes the hint and lifts her head. 

“You are so fucking,” Hilary says and then pauses, face screwed up like she's trying to figure out what to say. “God, I'm drunk. Intimidating? Yeah. You're fucking intimidating.”

Amanda is too far gone to be embarrassed by the squeak she lets out. 

“Like, I just. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“Me?”

Her face is so close to Hilary's, but she's still not expecting Hilary to lean in and press their mouths together. 

It takes a second for her to catch on, and Hilary starts to pull back before Amanda gets her hands on either side of Hilary's face to pull her back in. 

It's a little sloppy and they both taste like whiskey, but Amanda knows the floating feeling isn't just from the alcohol. Hilary's mouth is warm and soft, and every part of Amanda's body shakes when Hilary drags her teeth down her throat to bite where neck gives way to chest. 

“Fuck,” Amanda breathes. “Just, fuck, hang on.”

She pushes Hilary away enough to tug her shirt over her head. She's got the wherewithal to be thankful for wearing a cute bra and not the threadbare one she loves. 

Hilary runs her thumbs across the thin fabric and Amanda arches into the touch. 

“You too,” she says, hands tugging at the hem of Hilary's shirt until she pulls her shirt off. 

“Holy sh- can, fuck, can I?” Amanda isn't sure Hilary's going to understand what she's asking for, but Hilary laughs and says yeah.

“Fuck,” Amanda breathes. “Just, fuck, hang on.”

Amanda pushes her down flat on her back and straddles her legs. She traces her fingers down the lines of Hilary's abs before leaning down to lick a line up from her navel. 

“Oh, god,” Hilary moans, and Amanda sucks a livid mark under her ribcage. 

She gets her hands behind Hilary and unhooks her bra, pushes it up until her breasts are exposed. 

She sucks a nipple into her mouth, swirls her tongue around until it stiffens. Beneath her, Hilary squirms, hands flat against the bed. 

“You should, god, you should, yeah,” Hilary mutters nonsensically. And Amanda thinks, yeah, I should. 

She slips her fingers under the waistband of Hilary's sweats, pulls them down far enough that Hilary can kick them off. 

Amanda leans in, gives a cursory lick, just enough pressure for Hilary to hiss her name into her clenched fist. She slips her fingers through Hilary's slit, presses them in and up, presses until Hilary gasps. She finds a rhythm, slow and steady, works her tongue in circles and zigzags until Hilary's got her fist against her mouth to muffle the curses and unintelligible words. 

When Hilary comes, it's loud, so loud that Amanda is both proud and embarrassed that someone in the hall might hear. 

“Oh my god,” Hilary says, breathless. “Oh my god, get up here.” She's pawing ineffectually at Amanda's thighs, trying to drag her forward.

“You want me to-”

“Yes, fuck. I can't move but I want to taste you.”

Amanda crawls until she's positioned over Hilary's face. Hilary digs her fingers into Amanda hips, pulls her down until Amanda is sitting on her.

Amanda rocks her hips gently as Hilary’s tongue pushes inside her, velvety smooth.

“Come on,” Hilary says, lips rubbing every part that makes Amanda vibrate. She works Amanda's hips until Amanda's riding her face, slick over her chin and lips and mouth, until Amanda's thighs clench tight against Hilary's ears. 

Amanda's pretty sure her brain short circuits when she comes, and she's pretty sure she crushes Hilary a little when her body gives out. 

“I'm so, shit, did I break your nose?” Amanda asks, coming back to herself.

“No,” Hilary says with a grin. “It'd be worth it if you had, though.” 

She leans in to kiss Hilary, trembles at the taste of herself on Hilary's mouth.

“Jesus, that was good,” Hilary says, pushing Amanda's hair back from where it's plastered itself to her forehead. “I'd be down to do that again.”

“What, like in the morning?”

“Sure. Also maybe for a while after that.”

Amanda grins. “Yeah?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She's not entirely sure what that means, but she thinks she likes it. 

Hilary falls asleep a little while later, and Amanda fishes her phone out of her pants on the floor to text Kelli. 

🍆🍆🍆

_BITCH I TOLD YOU_

Amanda stifles a laugh before tossing her phone back into the pile and curling into Hilary.

Kelli’s going to be insufferable.


End file.
